There is an excellent reason for men to drink.  Not the shilly-shally around a glass of Chardonnay amongst words like Satie and angst.  But the drinking of full-blown Hegelian worship.

   For a moment of compromise, dismiss God as a figment of frail minds and place the sad state of things upon the chemical shoulders of testosterone.  And meanwhile accept that we are all created female until the devil calls the rotten ones to his bosom. 

   In the Dutchman speaking English you will sometimes hear the word 'yolk', which can be his pronunciation of 'joke'.  A far cry always from the 'yoke of colonialism' or the 'yoke of Kapital' or the 'yoke of patriarchy'  

    So often a search for understanding is dismissed as politics.  The assumption being understanding means power.  Leaving us sheep to quietly misunderstand those mystics for whom understanding has become an end. 

    Best allow the wolves to write history, and when the devil's bosom begins to boil raise a cold glass of something frothy and vote for women whose feet mostly touch this earth more gently.

     And here that lesson the 'Yolk of Patriarchy' makes so much sense.       

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